Dead Man Talking
by Katharine Ross
Summary: MAJOR SPOILER ALERT After Roy loses his friend Maes Hughes, he is told to relocate to Central City by General Hakuro. He lets him take Riza with him. Meanwhile General Hakuro tortures Rose in Lior.
1. Chapter 1

Roy was reclining in his seat, deep in thought. Sunlight soaked the top of his raven dark hair and lit his pale, drawn face. It poured in through the window behind his desk, keeping him warm like a mother's embrace. He was remembering that horrible night, too close to him in days for comfort. Questions ran continuously through his mind, over and over again like a Ferris wheel. What was Hughes thinking? What did he want to say in that phone booth? It was cruel fate for such a wonderful man. That's all Roy knew for certain. Hughes, who had taken the desk job during the Ishvar War while he fought battles, killed oh so many people. He was the furthest from harm in anyone's eyes, but some secret investigation was bothering him, something couldn't keep him from going down a path of discovery to who knows where that lead him to that deadly night.

He remembered when they investigated the scene of the crime.

"Shit, Roy, they shot him point blank from where you're standing. Someone was stepping in his blood right there…. poor bastard," Armstrong stopped speaking and started to weep, big wet tears down his cheeks and shuddered his brawny shoulders.

"He never told me he was in this far, he never told me," responded Roy very coolly trying to maintain his composure.

"Hughes wouldn't want to bother you, he's a good man like that," cried Armstrong now wiping his face with a handkerchief. The sight of such a grown man crying made Roy ten times more uncomfortable. He thought to himself,

"He didn't want to worry me because he wanted me to go to the top…become a Fuhrer…. change things. Why the hell did he go so far as to never tell me…I never knew!"?

Roy had never felt so ridden with guilt as the moments after receiving word of Hughes death. He hadn't felt this way since the Ishvar war, after destroying a city with one wave of his white-gloved hands. But none of his feelings included hopelessness. Armstrong came that day driven by his subordinate Hawkeye with news. The army was hot on the trail of Hughes' killers. Armstrong didn't have to divulge what he claimed was classified information for Roy to know it was about the creation of the Philosopher's stone. He felt someone in the army was after it again, and that someone killed Hughes.

"Colonel, Colonel Mustang, wake up," First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye nudged her superior's arm with the slight shake of her hand. With a reflexive reaction Roy's arm grabbed hers and held it strong. Riza blushed deeply and pulled back.

"Umm, ahem, there's a phone call for you Colonel, if you please."

Roy looked up drowsily into the Lieutenant's eyes and gazed there for a few minutes, then snapped out of it and mumbled,

"Yes, Lieutenant, I'll take it from here."

He stood up straight and walked towards the phone, half wondering why Riza was blushing and his head still a bit too drowsy for formal conversation.

"Colonel Roy Mustang reporting from Headquarters," he strained for the most professional voice. He hadn't received a phone call directly to himself for a few days.

"Yes Colonel, this is General Hakuro calling from Lior City."

"General! It's a pleasure to hear from you, how is the operation in Lior fairing?" Roy was as genial as possible, but something worried him. The connection was very faint, but he could hear quite clearly the loud wailing of a young woman in the background. It was growing louder by the minute, adding to the tension in the General's voice.

"Couldn't be better. Lior is a beautiful city. The Statues to their heathen gods are magnificent, we should"- Hakuro was cut off by the wailing sound. Roy was concerned. Whatever Hakuro was doing it didn't sound like regulation conduct. Before things became worse, he decided to confront the General, which was a bold move for personnel ranked below a commanding officer.

"If you excuse me General, what are you doing? I can't hear you, there is wailing in the background, its sounds like a woman crying!"

"Roy, sometimes you worry me, that is the harsh Lior winds whipping across the city today, we've had some amazing weather. Now if you please, I'd like to finish the small talk and get to real business."

This was Roy's cue to shut up and receive orders.

"I'm moving you to Central, the military needs you there. You have two days to pack."

Two days until Central? Roy was taken aback. He was comfortable at his headquarters, had just stabilized things. Going to Central he felt would be taking a U-turn. He also thought of his compatriots ranked below him. If nothing else he would want to take First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, she was a very dependable woman and good to have in a tight spot.

"May I make a request?"

"Why yes, but make it short, business is calling," General Hakuro said in a less than human reply.

"I wish to take my subordinates with me, Fiery, Havoc, Hawkeye, etcetera."

"Oh I should let you have your female companionship, but don't let love-making get in the way of your work on the front lines," General Hakuro was very happy right now for what seemed in Roy's eyes as suspicious reasons. He spat with his reply at the General's bawdiness.

"Even I would never stoop low enough to say that. You know how much I respect Hawkeye."

"Oh, oh, oh, OH!" General Hakuro let out a loud moan over the telephone and it started to shake a bit over the line.

What the hell? Thought Roy. Was he really talking to him while he was fucking himself?

"Excuse me Roy, I'm have important busnaaasssss, he let out a loud sigh, take your Hawkeye, I don't give a damn, just stop bothering me!" And with that General Hakuro hung up the phone.

Roy was furious. First, the General had moved him mid-term in his military schedule to Central, secondly he insulted his sexual self-control, and third but mostly he was fucking while on the phone. It seemed that the only good soldiers left in the Military were the underdogs.

"Excuse me Colonel, did the General have something important to say?" asked First Lieutenant as she entered the room. Roy was in a somewhat disturbed state; he didn't answer the question then in a straightforward manner. Instead he gazed at her for a moment lazily, lost in thought.

"Your hair is down today."

Riza took this as an order to abide by the dress code and pull it into a uniform bun.

"No, don't do that. It looks better that way."

Riza, between hair up and hair down, looked like her pet dog after she had fired a few gunshots around his head while training him. Roy laughed lightheartedly and Riza followed him with uneasy laughter. He stood up and walked towards her. She froze, unsure of what he would do with the freedom of an empty room. But he simply spoke.

"General Hakuro has given me orders to move to Central. We have two days. Start packing."

"We, Colonel?"

"Oh yes. The General granted me a wish. You're coming along," and with that Roy gave her his signature pat on the back and left a stunned Riza in his wake.

Rose crept into a corner away from the lustful glare of General Hakuro. She covered her body with torn blue rags she had scrapped from the blown bodies of the children she vowed to protect. Tears fell down from her eyes, but she could hardly feel them, her body was so numb with fear. All she could think was of the children and how she failed. She felt that the General's advancement upon her was retribution for that mistake.

"I won't hurt you unless you don't let me have some fun," snarled the General as he took off his overcoat, crisp shirt, and undershirt. His pale white flesh glowed underneath a set of tight suspenders. His eyes seemed like beady rubies glowing with sexual excitement. He seamed like Gluttony before the prospect of a new human dinner.

"Please sir! I must protect the children! You shot the children, I must protect them!" Rose wailed incessantly and beat the floor underneath her.

General Hakuro looked at her for a second, and then looked back at the children. Many of them were crumpled on the floor howling with pain and calling out Rose's name. The smallest child was yet a baby. The bullet of Hakuro's Lager was grazed deep into the child's skull. She was dead, limp in the arms of her older sister, who was cursing the General repeatedly. Hakuro fired a barrage of shots upon the children once again, and after a gasp and a gush from the children upon the wall, the five younglings became heaps of scarred flesh awash in their blood. The only sound was Rose's pathetic cries. The light of sunset beat red upon her face through the open door. She crawled on her knees towards the children.

"Down, bitch!" said Hakuro and hit her around with the butt of his rifle.

"Oh my God! Oh my God! Hear me! Protect Me! Where are you?" Rose had climbed to hysteria, pulling her veil over her head and clenching her hair in mourning.

"God does not exist in this valley of heathens. The only God on this earth is here in this room. I am God, sending you to damnation with the love cries of my pleasure!" He grabbed her wrist firmly and threw her down onto the floor.

"Evil Man!" She spat in his face. He blinked angrily.

"You'll pay for that, whore!" And with those words Rose fainted with emotional pain.


	2. Chapter 2

Dark nights lingered a little longer around the Eastern Headquarters after Hughes died. The moonlight was dimmer in the alleys, the romance of an evening walk overtaken by the air, damp with melancholy. No room knew the sorrow of the military men better than the Midnight Bar. An ironic consequence of the ominous murder was the aftermath of increased patronage at the pub. This disturbing trend of alcoholism in the ranks became customary; every night after shifts the soldiers would drift in for a drink. Even though their attendance was not urgent, they arrived very punctually, as if a visit to the bar was a part of their daily agenda. After they arrived, they stayed just long enough for the alcohol to drown out the restless fear inside them. Cloaked within the company of the bar and the hazy veil of a good beer, they could forget what was impossible to forget: that the kindest soul in their troupe occupying the most harmless position in the military imaginable had been killed in cold blood.

There was one person in the military, however, who would not stand for wanton drunkenness, regardless of the extenuating circumstances. Along the way home to pack for Central City, a Riza made a very intentional visit to the Midnight Bar. She figured after they had handled a few good shots at the pub they could deal with her very good shot. A steely gun sequestered in her left pocket; any observer of this determined female would have gathered the impression that she was teetering on insanity; little did they know this was Riza having a good time.

Something happened to the doors of the bar when Riza walked in. The euphemism, "flew open," might not be as fitting as the eye-witnesses account that the doors of the Midnight Bar were destroyed by what was described as a peculiar combination of kick and gunshot. It would be assumed that the impulse of any soldier in that bar would be to reply with an accompanying fire at the door. However Riza was counting on the fact that none of them were dry enough to handle their armor. They were all just sober enough to scurry behind the tables for cover.

"ARMSTRONG!"

Her voice rang through the increasingly comical silence as everyone slowly recognized her. Twenty some grown men cowering in your presence, that's satisfaction military rank can't buy. Another pause.

"Orders from Colonel Mustang for Major Armstrong!"

"Sir present sir maybe sir no sir definitely not sir!"

Armstrong jumped from his seat and delivered a less than understandable reply.

"I am not your commanding officer, Armstrong, you can address me as your subordinate."

An oddly feminine blush filled the Major's face as Riza gave him a reprimanding look. Armstrong was suddenly very sober.

"The message from our commanding officer, Hawkeye?"

Riza unexpectedly took a chair for an announcement.

"The message from our commanding officer applies to every soldier in Eastern Headquarters: The Midnight Bar from this day forth will exclusively sell fruit juice!"

Chaos ensued in the form of dropped jaws and guffaws-little schoolchildren crying after the teacher took away their recess time.

"We're tired, we're worried restless, and you take away our beer?" asked one soldier, almost weeping with disappointment.

"What kind of woman are you?" asked another.

Riza tried to assuage the crowd without sarcasm.

"This is not an order that I enjoy delivering, but this is the sixth month of this epidemic and it is starting to show, it is effecting the performance and the morale of everyone in the ranks!"

Riza genuinely felt sorry for the few she knew looked to this place for comfort. She wished she could exclude those like Armstrong who had witnessed the horror-the rest were just taking advantage of circumstances.

"Hawkeye, said Armstrong with emotion, it's like this-a good beer is like a warm pair of socks-

"Socks, Major?" Hawkeye smiled with sad eyes.

"Yes, a man without a good beer loses his strength, he is less fortified than other men-without a good draught, I would be unable to carry the burden, a delightful one mind you, of being a son in the Armstrong family!"

"We can sell warm socks here if you'd like Major," replied Riza, widening into a coy grin.

Armstrong understood the severity of a Colonel's order; others were a little more desperate. One soldier took to tugging on her coat. She was somewhat caught off guard by this approach. Her only response was to gently pat his head.

"The midnight bar will offer a wide variety of fruit juices, including Colonel's favorite blend of the house-Pineapple Sunrise!"

"What's your favorite blend, Lieutenant?" a man with greasy blonde hair asked suavely. He had barricaded himself with a group of compadres, a small he-man club that took to jeering at Hawkeye. They sat a part from the rest of the men. The rest of the men had given up the fight and lingered around the perimeter of the room, some still spinning from Riza's entrance, some waiting in half fear and half anticipation if she'd fire her gun at them again.

"I think she's a cherry myself!" Said one thrusting his pelvis.

"I'll taste anything you're selling, Riza!" An ugly bloke with a bawdy expression.

Armstrong took a protective stance in front of Riza as the verbal mongering escalated.

"Look's like the Major has a piece of the action, boys!" Again Armstrong blushed and almost backed away from Riza. She looked at him with understanding and appreciation.

"Maybe she'd like a little taste of _Roy _Rogers!" Sneered another man, whose body who was literally rolling with laughter.

Again the magic that everyone had been waiting for. Riza made her exit as stunning as her entrance, if not a bit more artistic. Everyone crowded around the burly soldier, now stunned in his chair, to witness the marvel of 12 bullet holes in a perfectly formed halo, all the classical Hawkeye inch from his head.


End file.
